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Basically, I feel as though my effort in terms of undermining the true accessibility of my work is to exemplify the dourer of our naturalistic tendencies as human beings. These pocket-monsters are a nickelodeon of fading radiation, reminding us that no matter how saturated the hunger of the twenty aughts is, it is still a nineteenth-century shell of decidedly enigmatic, specious power that seems to beckon the thaw of indie-influenced J-Rock. I don't posit that the increasing permeability of the membrane between indie and mainstream is an insidious development; instead, it should be acknowledged in the interest of foiling nonsensical Puritanism. Each piece in my exhibition offers three investigations of the ephemeral, each uniquely touching on aspects of temporality, evanescence and nostalgia. This diverse collection of conceptual and experimental works poses philosophical questions on the transience of being from a trivium of perspectives. I find it frustrating that there are a significant number of people that reject the simple concept of art without meaning above aesthetic quality.
I hope this helps to clear the air.